My father did not look at me.

My mother looked up, her eyes red and swollen, but she quickly turned her gaze to the floor.

Kelsey and Trevor sat further down the hall, whispering to their attorney.

Trevor looked up as my boots clicked on the tile.

He smiled, a thin, sharp expression that didn’t reach his eyes.

Kelsey adjusted her designer purse on her lap and glared at me.

“The court is ready for you,” the bailiff said, opening the heavy wooden double doors.

We filed into the courtroom and took our places at the long tables.

Judge Whitaker sat behind the high mahogany bench, reviewing a stack of papers.

He was an older man with sharp gray eyes and a reputation for tolerating no nonsense.

“We are here on an emergency motion filed by the plaintiff,” Judge Whitaker said, looking over his reading glasses.

Trevor’s attorney stood up immediately.

“Your Honor, my client has obtained an independent engineering report,” the attorney said.

“The structural integrity of the Cedar Hollow cabin is compromised, threatening the adjacent state parkland.”